Messenger of the Wind
by Anonymous Homosapien
Summary: It has been years. Years since he saw her face. Years since he visited her grave. Years since the end of the Bakumatsu. He cannot put this off any longer. He had to move on; past the wife that died so many years ago. Kenshin/Tomoe.


**Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin is just an anime I like to watch. **

_blah blah blah - _Events that happened in the past, when Tomoe was still alive

* * *

Wind blows through a field of gold corn, its caress as gentle as a lover's touch. The slightest nudge, and the slender stalks dance, swaying to the tune of the wind.

A sound disturbs the peaceful rest of the two joined realms of earth and sky.

Roughly woven straw sandals tread onto the fallen corn, the hard husks cracking under the pressure. The Wind turns its gaze upon the sole man who now walks into its embrace. Red hair—a deep crimson akin to blood— streams down a lithe body, and would have reached narrow hips if not for the high ponytail that kept it bound.

Finally, he stops. In the middle of the field, where a single stone lies, protruding out of the ground.

The slate colored slab was now smooth, a glossy sheen on its silver body from the bleaching of the sun, worn down by the combined forces of wind and rain.

"Tomoe."

It's the first time the man speaks as he halts in front of the tombstone.

_Happiness. _

_How long has is been since he experienced such an emotion? _

_Slight arms that belied their strength wrapped around the slim, curvaceous form of a woman. Midnight black hair meshed with brilliant strands the color of gaijin's wine. A thick blanket lay over two bodies twined together against a wall. _

_Tomoe shifted in her sleep, mumbling incoherently before unconsciously snuggling deeper into the warmth of her husband's arms. Kenshin laughed softly at the sight, dropping a chaste kiss on the soft, pale skin of Tomoe's cheek. His expression was bare of the cold mask, his eyes an unusual shade of violet, attractive features relaxed and serene. _

_It was hard to imagine him as Hitokiri Battousai, Demon of Kyoto. _

_Carefully, he disentangled himself from her, rising from the bed to go outside. That night was perfect. Stars were sprawled over the heavens, a sprinkling of silver against the velvety darkness of the night. The air was cool, refreshing yet not chilly. His sharp eyes could make out the field of gold corn in the distance bathed in silver moonlight, illuminated with an almost ethereal glow under the tranquil moon. _

_He stayed there for a while, staring at the full orb hanging in the sky, gaze faraway and pensive before going back to his wife. _

_Kenshin never suspected that all he would find the next morning was an empty futon and equally empty words. _

"Koishii…"

Kenshin kneels in front of the worn tombstone, lovingly brushing off the leaves and dirt from stone. He closes his eyes, trying to remember the silky texture of Tomoe's ebony hair when he stroked his fingers through the soft strands.

He can't.

The image of her face has faded as well, a portrait with paint that yellowed and peeled with age, leaving a pale mimicry of what once was a landscape of glorious, bright colors.

So it is strange, that after all these years, the memory of her death is still fresh in his mind like a wound that never healed.

_A dagger clatters to the ground, the impact absorbed by the blanket of snow draped over earth. _

_Crimson seeps into the silver-white powder, dyeing the tiny ice crystals a beautiful yet horrifying color.  
_

_It had all been too fast. One desperate attack. And it had cost him everything. _

_The foul, metallic smell of blood had not been able to cover her scent. White plum. But she was already bleeding. Dying. _

_"Tomoe…"_

'_I'll be the sheath to your madness.' The promise… Surely she wouldn't break it? _

"_Tomoe…" _

_The most feared warrior of the Bakumatsu, the Ishin Shishi shadow assassin, was crying. _

_The pearlescent liquid spills down his chilled cheeks, salty and stinging the gash on __his cheek. Rivulets of ichor flow down a delicate face and neck, the carmine line marring pale, perfect skin. _

"_Why?"  
_

_There is nothing to puzzle about when she sees soft lavender eyes, the color of flowers on the hills back home. The cold amber tint of a killer has long since left it, leaving the Kenshin Tomoe had come to know and love over the last five months. _

"_Why…?" _

_Tomoe can feel the comforting circle of his arms around her body, the warmth soaking through her thin clothes. Despite knowing that death was coming for her, she felt safe. _

_A bloodstained hand reaches out hesitantly. The gorgeous orbs of frosted amethyst widen as she touches his soft skin gently. He really did have skin that any woman would envy. Smooth and untouched by the sun. _

_For once, her features obey her, rearranging themselves to show her mood. The smile that lit up her pallid features was as brilliant as the sun. _

_It's alright… So please don't cry… _

"It's been a long time…"

_Since what? Since I saw you, whole and healthy and alive? _

Calloused fingertips trace the faded characters gouged lightly into stone. "I have found happiness, Koishii, with another."

"_Tomoe…" A voice broke the peaceful silence reluctantly._

"_Hai?" Tomoe blinked her large dark eyes open, ridding herself of the haze of sleep that had descended. _

_Sharp amber eyes lock with hers. For some unfathomable reason, the gaze of Hitokiri Battousai did not scare her. They were not cold as the snow swirling in a deadly storm outside, but burning. Burning with a power that made it hard for anyone to doubt him. _

_She was not scared of him. Never him, the boy-man assassin who she loved in spite of the blood staining his hands. _

"_The happiness that you lost once, in all this violence. I'll protect it for you this time." _

_She was shocked. There was no doubt about that. But at the same time, a warm, fuzzy feeling spread from inside her chest. "Hai," She whispers, not drowned out by the howling wind causing the house to shudder. _

_And she smiled at the man who killed her fiancé._

"I won't forget you. You'll always be the first woman I loved, Kaoru the second."

Kenshin took out a small bunch of purple irises, gently laying them down at the foot of the grave. The Wind blew on the flowers, carrying the sweet fragrance away.

_Tomoe looked back at the relaxed body of her husband, sprawled out with a lazy grace on the soft futon. A few months back, Kenshin would probably have never slept in the same room as someone else. _

—_This man stole my happiness once— _

_Ebony eyes trace the unguarded face for a short moment, drinking in the lulling peace and security that she felt around him. _

—_And he gave me another in its place—_

_She stood in the Wind, the long, graceful folds of her kimono fluttering restlessly. Pale, unblemished hands push the thin wooden doors shut silently. "Farewell… my second love…" _

_Tomoe died less than a day later. _

Nimble fingers swiftly unwrap a white scarf tied around his neck. Kenshin couldn't help but inhale slightly, trying to catch a whiff of white plums that enraptured him years ago, on a night amidst the turmoil of the Bakumatsu.

But the scent was long gone, bleached from the cloth as years had trickled by.

"_I killed and killed, without bringing the new era one step closer… I was just a common murderer. I buried my feelings, but somewhere in my consciousness, the hazy smell of blood was never far away."_

_I don't smell blood anymore. Just your white plum scent. _

"Sayonara, Tomoe."

Hair the striking shade of the setting sun was released from the high ponytail, and he became Kenshin the rurouni once more. Tomoe might have known him as the merciless Battousai, but Kaoru would never be exposed to that darker side of him. He was, and would remain to be the ignorant rurouni who never killed.

A lean body weaves through the towering stalks in the field of gold. Elegant fingers brush faintly against a sakabato strapped against a thin waist.

_Until the day the new era is achieved, I'll push my way forward over corpses. _

There is no need to kill any longer. A reverse-edged sword that could not kill had no need for a sheath.

And the Wind blows the faintest hint of white plums through the field of gold corn.

* * *

**Glossary: **

**Koishii **- Beloved

**Tomoe **-Kenshin's first wife

**Bakumatsu **- The final years of the Edo period when the Tokugawa shogunate ended, during which there was a Revolution

**Sakabato **-reverse-edged sword

**Ishin Shishi **- pro-imperial nationalists during the Bakumatsu

**Hitokiri Battousai **- The epithet coined for Kenshin, 'Hitokiri' literally meaning manslayer and 'Battousai' referring to his mastery of Battojutsu.

**Rurouni **-The actual term is ronin (masterless samurai)

**Sayonara **-goodbye

**I know the Wind thing is kinda hard to understand, but I personalized wind in an effort to provide a character that is an outsider, knowing the events that happened in Kenshin's life but never interfering and having no particular feelings towards him, whether negative or not. Basically an unbiased bystander. I don't think Tomoe was buried in a field of gold corn or whatever, but this is a fanfiction... so it's my idea. Please don't be too harsh in your comments. **


End file.
